Chapter 1 - The Empty Chair

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The cold gel on my stomach felt like a stark reminder of everything missing in the room. I stared at the ultrasound monitor, tracing the tiny, pulsing heartbeat of my son. He was thirty-two weeks along, strong and restless.

Beside me, the leather armchair remained perfectly, tragically empty.

"Is Mr. Thorne going to make it, Mrs. Thorne?" the technician asked, offering a sympathetic, tight-lipped smile.

"He's on his way," I lied, though the tremor in my voice gave me away.

My phone buzzed in my designer purse. I snatched it, hoping to see Adrien’s name on the screen. Instead, it was a text from Simone Vey.

Adrien is tied up with the harbor executives at Blackthorn. I’m keeping him briefed. He says to ask for a printout.

I stared at the glowing letters, my chest tightening until I could barely draw breath. Simone. His political advisor. His oldest friend. The woman the entire underworld believed was the true queen of his empire. Eleven minutes before the appointment, she had stolen him away. Again.

"Actually," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "he got detained at the estate. Work."

"Of course," the doctor murmured, though the deep pity in her eyes made me want to scream.

I watched my son open and close his tiny hand on the black-and-white screen. He was the heir to the Thorne syndicate. A child meant to solidify a bloodline that ruled this city with an iron fist. But to Adrien, it seemed, this child was just another asset on a balance sheet.

"He's perfectly healthy, Mara," the doctor said, handing me a stack of glossy photos.

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"Thank you."

I wiped the gel from my stomach, pulling down my cashmere sweater. As I walked out into the biting winter air toward the armored SUV waiting by the curb, I didn’t know that this appointment would be the last peaceful moment of my life. The betrayal had already begun, and I was walking straight into a slaughterhouse.